Strangers on Eastern Shores (CCW)
Strangers dominate the eastern shores, an exotic world with alien peoples, many of whom are mostly mysterious to us. The Kira are mostly hidden from us, a mystery to even themselves. The Wynder, our historical rival, have completely blocked themselves off from the world. But in the rich, overflowing lands of Sayrowyn, humans live side by side with a whole array of other races; telepaths, octopuses, winged women, and more. __FORCETOC__ Kirana: the Kira See also: the humans of Kirana, and the Elves of Eleftherna (a subset of the Kira). '' The Kira have always been a difficult people to grasp, for everything that is true about them in a moment may have entirely changed in a generation. Their current incarnation, at least in the known northern and westerly parts of Kirana, is a race of solitary beings; no more than nine thousand potent enchanters who wander through their thoroughly domesticated jungle, tending, growing, shaping this paradise to their own liking. The trees are bowed over, heavy with fruit. The animals move slowly and stop to let each other pass. The rivers are so thick with fish that they crowd each other above the surface and one can pluck them up without touching the water. Yet, if the nature of the Kira holds true, this splendor cannot last. It will likely unravel into chaos, starting with a subtle little war, waged among tremendous egos, inch by inch.The Kira mark their territory with their individual designs and signature enchantments--special vine formations, crops, or breeds of fat little animals--all of which are in constant competition with each other. Assertive gestures become jabs and toe-steps, which become sabotage, then open warfare, total annihilation, and eventually the reconstitution of Kiran society into something new and unrecognizable. We know this as the pattern of the Kira, because the very society in which this all takes place stands on the absolute ruin of the last Kiran civilization—a civilization with mile-long reflecting pools and densely packed, layer-cake cities; now frothy ponds and overgrown piles of stone. This is how Kiran history operates, over and over again. Societies rise rapidly, then collapse completely, usually through some kind of overexertion—petty internal bickering, a depletion of resources, or, once long ago, a war against the world. There is something rather admirable about this dizzying cycle: the ambition, the reinvention, the adaptability and devotion. When a new Kiran society forms out of the ash of the last, it forgets what came before it and, in a matter of years, becomes an old thing itself; stubborn, traditional, eternal in its own mind, singularly devoted to the course it has taken, whatever the end. Say what you will about the Kira, but they do not fear death. Not in the least. Note: Kira are tall, though not inhumanly so. They are also generally slender, with pointed ears, and dark, patterned skin. When new Kiran societies form, the Kira themselves may also adapt by taking on new physical characteristics. The current northern-western Kira are, as far as we can tell, do not age, and have immortal life-spans. Other Kiran societies are more or less unknown, but are likely medium-sized, severely distinct civilizations that give each other wide-births. They also almost certainly follow a similar cycle. We have only one recorded instance of the Kira uniting as one race, over four thousand years ago. Wyndol: the Wynder ''See also: the humans of Wyndol Humanity’s ancient rival is no longer well known to us since they closed their borders and isolated themselves on their continent. In the past, we waged war against them for control of Mozra and what was then called Beluin. Mozra was defended, but Beluin became Wyndol, and the rivalry dissolved into memory and memory into fable. And while small, isolated communities of Wynder continued to exist on Mozra up to the end of the last age, they kept almost entirely out of sight. In folklore, the Wynder morphed into shriveled, twiggy, sharp-toothed little beasts that lurked in every shadow and snatched children up into the trees. The real Wynder (or more archaically “the Wynds”) are not difficult to find, of course. Large populations live in Sayrowyn: slight, dark humanoids, with exceptionally light and strong bones. They are incredibly agile; leaping, soaring, and gliding in seemingly impossible fashion. And their bodies in general are extremely resilient, able to survive extreme altitudes and water pressure, great heat and great cold. Ancient accounts describe armies of Wynder marching through burned cities unscathed, or emerging from the seas without any warning. The Wynds of Sayrowyn, however, are only Wynder in a physical sense. Culturally and linguistically, they are nothing like their reclusive brethren on the home continent. Regarding those “true” Wynder, any contact with them is mediated through the hostile and unforthcoming Wyndolese humans. Of the present, we can only speculate based on our knowledge of the past, of a civilization two thousand years old. Like humans, they were explorers and expansionists, but unlike us they were not city builders, preferring to capture and commandeer the labor of other races. This earned them a reputation as a parasitic people that has lasted to this day. Also unlike humans, they rarely divided themselves into realms and factions, acting in perfect concert, seemingly without clear leadership or organization. This is not to say they were entirely united, simply that they thought of themselves as free individuals and detested any permanent allegiances. To the ancient Wynds, loyalty to anything but an idea was folly. Their anarchic armies, united only by “Common Cause,” shocked and appalled Humans and Guiyants. Perhaps the strangest thing about the Wynder was they never seemed to have their own gods. These they took from other races as well, before flipping those deities on their heads. The Wynds worshiped the “Dark gods,” or more accurately the “mirror aspects” of Human and Guiyant gods. These practices were never fully understood by us, but we do know that as the Human-Wynder conflict relaxed, the Wynder religion deepened and spread, and was likely a root cause of their self-imposed isolation. Some suggest that the Wynder compared their paltry 40-50 year life spans to our own, and to the eternal Guiyants, and retreated to commune with greater powers, to search for answers, to overcome their own mortality. Notes: Much of the strife of the First and Second Wars against the Gods coincided with the expulsion of Wynds from Mozra and the loss of Beluin. The Evindal Malicate is often thought to be the principal actor in the Wynder-Human wars. Sayrowyn: the Many See also: the humans of Sayrowyn Sayrowyn is extremely populous and vastly diverse, one of the only places on earth in which many races live and work side by side. But the popular conception of Sayrowyn as a series of humid, unsanitary cities in which monstrous creatures have sordid love affairs with humans is generally untrue. There is a great variety in the kinds of societies that exist on this subcontinent. Much has been written, for instance, on the Romir, a subset of the Ayluir race that form their own formidable civilization in the temperate south.* They use their keen telepathic abilities to form a swarm-like collective consciousness, and make decisions through complex forms of consensus. The Romir are integrated together in perfect harmony while retaining their individuality, so to watch them dance or fight together is to witness something ineffable -- between organism and machine. Many of the winged Iulari also live apart from other races, aggressively staking out military and trade posts in remote inland locales (across not just Sayrowyn, but Rvorhmaura as well). They are known to be rather unfriendly and incredibly competitive, racing to outdo each other with their fantastical (and useless) wonders, built for their gods. There are roving troupes of Ferali here, too, making a fair living as day workers and performers. Then there are the hierarchical societies, where races live together but not on equal terms-- certain Iulari outposts or stray Wynder settlements operate this way--but this structure is most typical of the northern city-states. These are dank, dreary places, controlled mostly by the hulking Swata (or Swatari), who enslave or employ other races to build their crude and precarious brick towers. The Swata spend much of their time fighting and sabotaging each other as well, hiring bands of (often human) mercenaries to loot and pillage the countryside. Needless to say, the Swata are not well regarded. Neither are the diminutive, amphibious Caba, humanity’s regional rival in sea trade. Most races consider them parasitic bottom-feeders, underhanded money-grubbers, and filthy pirates. So the Caba are often relegated to the edges of coastal cities, or to the marshlands and other undesirable environments. Understandably, many choose instead to live out their lives on dingy little ships or as unseen servants in large private estates. The vast majority of Sayrownese, however, inhabit the co-operative city-states at the heart of the subcontinent: Caba, Swata, Human, Wynder, and Ferali alike; plenty of exiled Ayluir and Iulari; the Palpari (clever, canal dwelling octopuses); and immigrants of many other races, coming from every corner of the world. In these cities, races do live and work together, and are categorically equal and free. But the emphasis here is on categorically. That is, each race takes on a different role --certain trades and governmental positions that they monopolize. And so members of different races are limited to certain occupations and social circles. They pass each other in the street, yes, and have frequent professional interactions. But in general, each race lives and works alongside its own kind, governed by a complex web of taboos and customs. There are two cities, however, that have done away with all that propriety; that wrangle the human imagination; cities in which all individuals, irrespective of race, are thought to be free, to speak only for themselves, and to do what they please under one law and culture. In luscious, sunlit Kiamt, the sight of white, water-colored walls and glazed blue steps have welcomed exiled lovers and fed-up dreamers, searching for a place to be freely themselves. The smaller, lesser known island city of Buneso isn’t quite as self-congratulatory, but is far more fearsome about protecting its citizens. In recent years, however, as conditions elsewhere in Sayrowyn worsen and restrictions grow more stringent, Kiamt and Buneso continue to rise in their status as refuge, straining against the tide of migrants. This year, Buneso closed its doors until further notice. Kiamt, buckling under the weight of its generosity, may soon do the same. Notes: *Rogue Ayluir exist as well, but with their highly sensitive minds, they often live hermetic lives or self-mutilate to retain their sanity. Datra, a co-operative city, is the largest and most famous of the Saywronese city states, ruled by a constitutional Swatari Queen. Golmori is the subcontinent's most famous republic, with each race voting by block to elect a senator.